~ She walks, she talks, she administers the sacraments

Monthly Archives: August 2013

The poet Seamus Heaney died on Friday. He was staying with a friend of ours in Cambridge one time, another Irishman, Eamon Duffy, our daughter’s godfather, who is a professor at Cambridge. Another friend of theirs was receiving an honorary doctorate, and Heaney went into town to buy a book to give her as a present. When he got back, he realised he had forgotten to buy a card and asked Eamon if he had a postcard he could have to send his best wishes with the book. When Eamon found a suitable card, Heaney asked for a pencil. Eamon offered him a pen, and Heaney said no, he wanted a pencil, so that the recipient could rub out the greeting and reuse the card. This was hardly likely as anybody in the literary world would give their eye-teeth to have a personal greeting from one of the greatest poets of our age. It was a sign of a truly humble man, and someone who had known poverty in the past. And most of the obituaries are talking about Heaney as a humble man.

Humility is one of those tricky virtues. So often is has been forced on whole groups of people such as women or the working class. Women were expected to put everyone else first, to do the menial jobs in church, to keep everyone else happy. Stories from the Bible, like the one we heard just now in the Gospel reading, have been used to put moral pressure on people to take the lowest place in church and society and keep quiet. And when humility is forced on you, its not true humility. But nor does it do any spiritual good to the people who demand your humility.

When you choose humility for yourself, it is a great virtue: when you choose to lay aside the power or status that you have for the sake of God or other people. But before you can lay it aside, you need to recognise and own the power that you have.

We see lots of examples of people who are not humble. In literature, there was Dickens’ Uriah Heap who talked incessantly about being humble, but was actually incredibly ambitious. And it’s a great subject for humour – so many jokes and sit coms are about someone who thinks more of themselves than they should and how they get knocked back. Like Hyacinth Bucket in Keeping up Appearances. Or those situations where someone is trying to look good by putting down and then find that the person they are talking too really is someone significant. You get that in the film Notting Hill, when the dinner party guests are making jokes about actors and putting them down, and then discover that the Julia Roberts character is actually a film star.

And in our dealings with other people, humility is so important. Do you ever end up playing the adult version of “my dad’s bigger than your dad”? It covers everything from “my house is bigger than your house” or “my qualification is better than your qualification” to the inverted versions of “my problem is bigger than your problem”. It becomes a game, a terrible and terrifying game, playing a kind of psychological top trumps. You get sucked it, and it is so difficult to break off until someone is utterly crushed. And the only way to break it is to say “That must be lovely for you” and walk away.

We see problems with humility in church too. In the old days, clergymen often expected respect and favours simply because they were priests. Clergy would wear the collar on their days off or on trips out, just to get the added benefits. We don’t get that kind of treatment now, I can tell you, and I’m really glad for that.

And the wrong practice of humility in the church has led us into unhelpful attitudes and practices, so that we don’t expect people to say that, actually, they have done a good job. True humility means being able to lay claim to a good job done, as well as being honest about the things that have gone wrong.

Humility means being able to look at ourselves honestly, the good and the bad, and accept ourselves as we are, and present ourselves to others as we are. What you see is what you get. Humility means not making a fuss in public about the good that we have done and expecting praise. It does mean looking out for others and giving them the praise and thanks they deserve for what they have done. Humility means looking out for others, and allowing them to care for you, receiving the love and compassion that other people give to you. Humility means noticing the people around you, giving them attention and care. Nobody is too minor or insignificant to be below your radar.

There is a story[1] about a trainee nurse whose lecturer set them a quiz one day. The student had worked hard at her studies and breezed through the questions. Till she came to the last one: “What is the name of the college cleaner?” The student was stumped. She could visualise the woman: she had dark hair and was in her fifties, but she didn’t know her name and had to leave the question blank. Another student asked if this mark would count towards the grade. “Yes”, said the lecturer, “In your careers you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say ‘Hello’.” The student said that she never forgot that lesion. And she found that the cleaner’s name was Dorothy.

Do you recognise these names? They are some of the people who are recorded in the Chapel of All Saints, behind the High Altar, people who came to this church and died, many of them quite young. For the most part, we do not know the ways in which these people witnessed to Christ in and through this church, but they were part of the Church’s witness in this parish in the first decade of the 20th century.

Other names you might recognise more easily:

Emily Matilda Easton

William Searle Hicks

Isaac Bewley

Caroline Townshend

James Taylor Ogleby

These are people who helped to build this church, as benefactor, architect, builder, designer, craftsman.

Then there are more recent names:

Heather Bramwell

Audrey Williamson

Jean Divine

Audrey Starkie

Lilian Manser and John Manser

Betty Read

Marion Hawdon

Cherry Sawyer

All of them, good members of this church, who contributed a great deal to the life of this church in what they did and by just being who they were. They were generous in time and energy and resources. They stood up for Jesus and pointed to Jesus.

These are just some of the great cloud of witnesses we recognise in this church.

The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, who probably wasn’t Paul, talks about the cloud of witnesses before the time of Jesus, from Abraham onwards, including Rahab, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, the prophets – so many of them – all of them who witnessed to God by the things they did and said.

Then we have our Christian saints, those whose place in heaven we can be confident in. And you will have your favourites. My mother insisted that all her children had saints’ names, so I am named for St Margaret of Scotland and Mary Mother of our Lord, and I am very fond of my saints. When I visited Russia 3 years ago, I fell in love with St Seraphim of Sarov. I ask my friends in heaven to pray for me sometimes, or ask them to pray for people and situations I am concerned about. The stories of the saints are stories of faith in difficult circumstances, people who stuck with Jesus in the face of opposition, people who pushed themselves to the edge in order to get to know God better.

And there are those who have made a significant contribution to our own spiritual development. I remember my godmother Kathleen who gave me a book of saints when I was 5 years old, which was important to me, and my friend Joy, who invited me to go with her to a prayer group at the House of Prayer at Burn Hall. And people who are still alive, like David, my spiritual director, who has accompanied me on the journey for 16 years.

We are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses. Almost all the people I have mentioned have died, but I believe they are still interested in us as a church and in us as individuals. In their living, they were examples to us. In their death, they remain part of who we are. In the life to come, they have another role. They are still involved. They still care. They are still part of us. I have no doubt that Henry Chadwick Windley, the first vicar of this parish, is still praying for this church and this community.

They aren’t praying for us just for fun or to ensure that our lives go well, they are praying with a purpose: they are praying for our spiritual development, that we will grow closer and closer to God and become more and more like Jesus. They are praying that we will be good witnesses ourselves, so that people will see Christ in us and turn to follow him. They are praying that we will be good disciples, doing God’s work in our community, helping to build God’s kingdom in this place. They are praying that when troubles come – and they will, they always do – we will find the strength and courage and wisdom and insight to face all the problems and remain good witnesses in difficult circumstances.

Jesus talks about the troubles that are coming in the Gospel reading we heard just now. Jesus isn’t all sweetness and light. Following Jesus is not about an easy life. But it is about a good life, a fulfilling life. We are lucky. We are not persecuted for believing in Jesus. Our brothers and sisters in many lands are persecuted. Churches have been burnt in Egypt over the last few days. We will face other challenges though, and we can face them with courage and fearlessness, love and truth, because we are not alone.

They are all around us, the eternal witnesses, cheering us on, encouraging us from the heavenly sidelines. They want the best for us. They want the best for you. And the best is in God’s kingdom.

So take courage, be encouraged. Look at the examples you have been given. Be inspired! When you are worried or concerned, ask them to help you and to pray. Ask God what he wants you to do, how he wants you to be a witness, how he wants you to build the kingdom, how he wants you to serve. There is something that God wants you to do. He gives you everything you need in order to do it, including a whole crowd of supporters.

Home is not just where we live, it is one of the factors that shape us and makes us who we are.

I reflected on this when I lived in Annfield Plain for a couple of years. This was an old Durham pit village in a row of such villages with a culture all of their own. It was a time when I was thinking hard about recent experience, and I felt that I was, spiritually, going underground to dig out the means which would provide light and warmth.

Now in Bensham, Gateshead, life is shaped by living on a steep hill. Someone remarked, “Why is everything in Bensham so uphill?” It is, physically and metaphorically.

On holiday in Chamonix last week, I was reflecting on this again, wondering what it meant to absorb the craggy landscape into one’s interior spiritual landscape. Over the week, I learnt how people had engaged with the mountains and related to them and how this relationship had changed over time:

For the early settlers, they were killer mountains, dangerous. They kept well clear.

In the 19th century, visitors arrived, for whom the mountains were a challenge to be conquered.

Then they became a place of sport, particularly extreme sport.

And also a place of beauty that people travelled to admire.

For the locals, the influx of so many visitors meant that the mountains became a source of business and wealth.

For those who come to live and work and engage in sport here, the mountains become a way of life.

And for some, the mountains have been a place of solitude and prayer, a place to become closer to God, perhaps also a place of spiritual testing. There was an exhibition of photographs of some of the many monasteries in the Swiss alps.

For many, these mountains are also a source of inspiration for art and culture. There was an exhibition of paintings by Loppe and Ravanel, though for 200 years, many artists and writers have come here to be inspired.

As a visitor for a very short time, I have come away with a sense of being refreshed – more refreshed than other holidays have left me – by the mountain air and the excitement of seeing such high mountains and glaciers and snow and ice. Chamonix is not my home, but it graciously received me and healed my soul.

It was not the kind of place I normally hang out, not my usual holiday destination. We were there, in Chamonix in the French Alps, because my nephew has bought an apartment there. In the end, the builders were still working on the flat, so we had to hire somewhere else to fit in with the flights that had already been booked.

However, it was a revelation, mind-blowingly beautiful. We saw and experienced things that we have never seen or experienced before. I can really see the attraction. And it also made me more aware of the dangers of the mountains and the way the environment is changing because of global warming.

But I still felt that we were the odd ones out in Chamonix. Chamonix is very much the playground of the rich. Bankers from Geneva live there and commute. And to own property in Cham you have to be rich. I have never seen so many estate agents! We perused the adverts in the windows. A one-bedroom flat is going to cost you 100,000E, and a four-bedroom chalet in need of renovation will set you back something like 1mE. Food and drink in the bars and restaurants was pricey. There were some wonderful shops, all catering to the high-end market, lovely to look at, but we weren’t spending.

The other way in which our faces didn’t really fit was that we don’t do extreme sports. Well, to be honest, S and I don’t really do sports at all. People go to Chamonix to live because they are passionate about sports of various kinds. That’s why P has bought his tiny studio flat – he is a skier and a rock climber. You can also go snow-boarding, white-water rafting, or paragliding.

There are lots of British people living in Chamonix. Our driver on the bus back to the airport has 4 jobs, including his own business taking people out on fly-fishing trips. Doing a bit of this and a bit of that enables people to live around Chamonix and continue with their sports interests. That is their treasure, their passion, the reason for their existence. And so that is where they invest their time and energy, money and resources. The mountains are their kingdom.

It is that kind of place. People just fall in love with it. The mountains are so high, and they are all around you. And there is snow and ice even in August. There you are enjoying 30 degree heat in the valley and you are looking at ancient glaciers high above you. From my bed, I looked out at Mont Blanc. What a way to wake up!

The kingdom of God is like that feeling you have for the place where you really really want to be, a place that inspires you, the place where your heart belongs, just as my nephew P’s heart belongs in Chamonix rather than Preston where he was brought up.

But the kingdom of God isn’t a physical place. You can’t find it on a map, or book an EasyJet flight. The kingdom of God is a way of living with God in charge. But the passion for the kingdom should be like the passion people have for Chamonix and the mountains. It’s the place where you really want to be, the place where you invest your heart and mind and soul.

Living the kingdom involves a lot of waiting. We are waiting for the kingdom to come, when Jesus comes again, the Master returning home, and living the kingdom here and now, living with Jesus in charge. The kingdom is in the future and it is now. It just is. Jesus talks about being ready for the Master’s return, being alert. One day, Jesus will come again, but in the meantime, we look for Jesus in every person that we meet.

When the mountains are your playground, you do a lot of waiting. Some people arrive for their few days of ski-ing or climbing and the weather is against them, but they only have those few days, so they risk it and go anyway. They are the ones who get into trouble. We saw the mountain rescue helicopter a few times in the week we were there. P has assured my sister that he only goes out when the conditions are good. Better to wait another day or another week or until the next trip than get lost in the mist and cloud and fall down a crevasse.

Jesus also advises the disciples: Be dressed for action. In winter sports, being dressed for action means having the right clothing and equipment for your sport, the gear that will keep you safe and warm and comfortable and enable you to reach the peak, or glide down the slope. For years, our Christmas presents to P have been small pieces of climbing equipment that I do not understand, because these are the things he needs for his passion, the things that will protect him.

Being dressed for action in the kingdom of God is about your attitudes and habits, all the things that make you who you are as a person, like your attitude to money and possessions, your attitude to other people, your attitude to the world around you, your attitude to God. And the way these attitudes work out in what you do and say. Give what you have to help others, whether that’s money or goods or time or energy.

God the Father rejoices to give you the kingdom. He rejoices in the pleasure that the skiers and climbers take in the alps. He rejoices in the passion people have for protecting the environment. He rejoices when people work out their faith in caring for others and being passionate about what is right and good.

Love God. Love God’s kingdom. Be dressed and ready for action. Look out for Jesus. That is faith.